


Tinder What?

by DaturaMoon



Series: Other Pedro Pascal Characters [10]
Category: Agent Whiskey - Fandom, Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-16 20:35:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28712874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaturaMoon/pseuds/DaturaMoon
Summary: AN: I couldn’t sleep then this happened. Whiskey has officially really claimed me, hun? This is wild because as I said before, I am normally not into cowboys. I’m also jotting notes down for We All Have Ghosts again, so more Whiskey to come.
Relationships: Agent Whiskey / F reader
Series: Other Pedro Pascal Characters [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2013037
Comments: 4
Kudos: 20





	Tinder What?

**Author's Note:**

> About reader: As always, any size and any race, but I personally pictured the reader in her 30s. Reader has a younger sister in this fic who I visualized around 22yrs old. 
> 
> Warnings: Mid way we jump right into smut in progress. Protected sex. Smut is not super detailed but you get the point.

As you wait for your second drink, you look around at your surroundings then settle on your younger sister as she chats up two guys. This music festival was her thing, not yours. Besides, this wasn’t even real rock music. 

Standing around in the sun caked in dirt as shitty music played, not fun. You’d take a good old fashioned concert over this anyday. But, it was her birthday week and this is what she wanted to do. 

The bartender hands you your drink and a conversation at the end of the bar catches your attention. 

“Follow my finger” the tall thin blonde says while moving her finger to the left

“What are we doing?” The man chuckles. You can’t see his face, but the back view is enough to keep you interested. 

His broad shoulders under a leather jacket, cute ass and slim hips in well fitted jeans. He even wore a black cowboy hat and black boots. 

“What, you don't tinder in American?” The blonde asks. 

You bite back a laugh, the guy really seemed to be unaware. You kind of felt a little bad for him. 

A younger guy comes over and leans on the bar behind the blonde. You listen to the rest of their exchange and definitely feel bad for the cowboy. 

Turned down, the cowboy walks away from the bar and takes something out of his pocket. You find yourself more curious than ever. Did the front of him look as good as the back? 

Excusing yourself, you walk in his direction and glimpse down at your phone, pretending to text. When your bodies collide, his quick reflexes kick in; a firm hand falls on your upper arm to stabilize you.

“My apologies, I did not see you there!” 

You look up at him finding a very handsome face obscured by brown shades looking back at you. A nice smile and good teeth peek out underneath his mustache. His accent is definitely Southern.

“It’s okay, it was my fault. I let this damn thing distract me.” You wave your phone around and slide it into your pocket. You feel a smile slowly build on your lips and he leans in closer. 

“Now, that’s got to be the most beautiful smile I’ve seen in a long time,” he places his hand over his heart, “honest truth.” 

You lift your chin and cross your arms, taking him in.

“Hmm, her loss. I wouldn’t have rejected you.” 

He grins and places his hand on his hip. “You were at the bar?” 

“And I heard the whole tragic thing.” You tilt your head to the side and bite your lower lip. 

What sounds like a soft moan leaves his lips as his eyes fall to your mouth, then back to your eyes. “A tragedy that led to a much better fate, in my option.” 

He’s even closer now and you lift his shades from his face, to see his eyes. Rich, brown, and deep. They suck you in, you hook his shades on your vneck tee while holding his gaze. 

“I fucking hate tinder anyway. Meeting someone in person is so much better.” You say. 

The cowboy smiles and extends his hand, “Jack.” 

You tell him your name as he takes your hand. When his lips meet your skin, his mustache tickles a little and his lips linger there long enough to cause other parts of your body to react. 

“Tell me Darlin, “ Jack’s eyes meet yours, “any plans tonight?” 

…

Later 

Jack can’t believe his luck. You were a work of fucking art. 

In a daze, Jack watches the way you ride him. The bouncing of your breasts, dance of your hips, the way his cock fills and stretches you - this is heaven. 

Lifting the hat from his head he places it on yours with an approving hum, 

“Darlin’, you ride me like you belong here. Go ahead baby, use me -” he bites hard on his lower lip, digging his fingertips into your hips. 

You hold on tight, hands on his broad shoulders like a vice as you speed up. You purr his name as Jack's hands move up to your breasts. 

The pressure building in you begs for release, but you don’t want it to end, not yet. You never had such perfect sync with a person before, it’s like Jack knows your body and anticipates your every move - creating a sinfully delicious rhythm casting a spell on both your bodies. 

His sensual hands roam your body as he moans dirty words into your skin, sealing them with kisses. 

“Fuck, you feel so good !”You cry out, feeling your muscles tense. 

Wack! His hands come down hard on your ass. “D-do your worst cowgirl! Ride me harder!” he growls on uneven breath. 

Almost as if you were possessed by some kind of nymph or sex goddess, you ride him at a feverish pace. You ride him until you come, hard, and collapse into his arms. Jack’s right behind you, he bites down on your neck as he spills into the condom and fills it with his cum.

The hat falls off. Jack grabs a fist full of your hair and pulls you into an open mouth kiss, claiming your lips and tongue as his own. You moan into the kiss as the aftershocks of orgasm consumes your bodies. 

When the kiss breaks, you rest your head in the nook of his shoulder and relax your arms. Jack gently caresses your back. 

Seconds later, you move your head and nip at his neck. “I hope you brought your lasso.” You purr. 

Jack groans and grips the nape of your neck, pulling your head back so he can see you. 

“What kind of cowboy would I be if I didn’t bring my lasso?” 

You coo and stick your tongue out to lick the length of his neck. A wave of pleasure runs through him, his hands settle on your hips. 

Jack catches your tongue with his teeth and gently bites before releasing it, “Saddle up cowgirl. Tonight’s gonna be a long ride.” 

Smiling, you move your hands up to his hair and tug. “Good thing I don’t tire easily.” 

With a sinfully dark look in his eyes, Jack pulls you beneath him, his cock, now soft, still inside of you. Locking your legs behind him, you drag your nails down his back as his lips press against yours.


End file.
